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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"A Story of the Nation's Crisis"

Look, the colonel is
beckoning to us! Here we go!"
They sprang upon their horses, and a great corps advanced toward the
Antietam, far above the town of Sharpsburg. The sun had declined in
the West, and a breeze, bringing a little coolness, had begun to blow.
They did not see much preparation for defense beyond the river, but as
they advanced some cannon in the woods opened there. The Union cannon
replied, and then the brigades in blue moved forward swiftly.
The officers and the cavalry galloped their horses into the little
river and Dick felt a fierce joy as the water was dashed into his face.
This was action, movement, the attack that had been delayed so long but
which was not yet too late. He thought nothing of the shells hissing and
shrieking over his head, and he shouted with the others in exultation
as they passed the fords of the Antietam and set foot on the peninsula.
The cannon dashed after them through the stream and up the bank.
A heavy rifle fire from the woods met them, but the triumphant division
pressed on. They were held back at the edge of the woods by cannon
aiding the rifles, and for some time a battle swayed back and forth,
but the Confederate resistance ceased suddenly.


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